In the santhai at Puliakulam

Puliyakulam comes alive with vegetable vendors and customers every Tuesday. Parshathy. J. Nath joins in the hustle and bustle

Weekly vegetable market at Puliakulam, in Coimbatore, Tamil Nadu, on a Tuesday. Photo: S. Siva Saravanan.

“T hakkali, oru kilo pathu rooba; vengayam oru kilo pathu rooba!” The chorus of vendors rises in the air, at the Puliyakulam vegetable market. They squat on the blue tarpaulin sheets, spread on the roadside, with their fresh greens, coconuts, varieties of pulses, and dry fish.

They are quite indifferent to the traffic that has to be careful not to hit them. The market is held every Tuesday, from five in the evening and till ten at night. Many of the customers come here after attending the mass at the St. Antony’s Church. Mary is one of them who says, “I come here every Tuesday to attend the mass. On my way home, I bag a few onions, keerais and tomatoes. The vegetables here are fresh and much cheaper than those you get in the supermarkets.”

Bright red tomatoes, pink onions, giant pumpkins, beetroots, potatoes, lady’s fingers, and snake gourds, are arranged all along the road. They make their way here from the

thoattams in different parts of the city, the Ukkadam vegetable market, and the Town Hall.

Karthika Pandi sits with her veggies near a Mariyamman temple, located at the centre of the market. “This is a nice spot. All the devotees of the temple come to us.” Her husband sits a few feet away from her with tomatoes and onions. Their son helps them out.

It is all green on one side.. “ Vendhaya keerai, molakeerai, agathi keerai, ponnankanni keerai ... Janci Mary calls out at the top of her voice, One bundle costs just Rs. 6. Seventy-five-year-old Paruthatha, and her 90-year-old husband, Arunachalam, also sit with karuveppilai and kothamalli. “We sell just only these, because anything else would be too heavy to carry. But, I used to sell vegetables like the others, when I was young,” she remembers.

Humour too

Some people huddle around a stall that belongs to Suresh. A board announces, “Only Rs. 5”. He has mounds of carrots, snake gourd, tomatoes and green chillies, and anything you take costs Rs. 5. “If you have my chillies for six months, you will live for a long time,” jokes Suresh.

The same vendors set up shop in different parts of the city such as Avarampalayam, Masakalipalayam and Thudiyalur, on different days of the week. “We work on all days of the week. We move from one market to the other. We get to rest for only a few hours,” says Shanthi.

But they have their problems. Ganeshan, who is from Singanallur, says that although they get many customers, the business is not stable. “We cannot do our business, when there is road work or pipeline construction. It is tougher during the rains. There is no income at all for several days.”

Further down the road, fish vendors sell dry and salted fish. Babu, who shoos the flies away with a paper, proudly shows a newspaper clipping, where he and his wife are travelling on a bike attached to the vandi carrying fish. He travels on this to Rameshwaram and even Kerala, to fetch fish. “If my wife is with me, I use a bike. If I am alone, I use a scooter.”

There are bananas, water melons, apples, and mangoes. Guavas and mangoes are served with a spicy masala.

“Watch out for the bus!” The vendors warn the customers to move back, as a 7 C enters the lane. Several step down from the bus to shop. By now, it is eight, and more people come out of the church. Pritha, a customer, brings her Scooty to a halt to buy a few onions and keerai . “The market goes on till ten at night. I prefer to come here, a little late, when the vendors sell their stuff at much cheaper rates.” The vegetable sellers place emergency lanterns on overturned vegetable baskets. Their high-pitched shouts have risen by several decibels, now. The buzz and activity in the market will continue long into the night.